Speak to me in the thrilling minster's gloom!
Speak! thou hast died, and sent me no farewell!
I will not shrink;-oh! mighty is the tomb,
But one thing mightier, which it cannot quell,
This woman's heart!

This lone, full, fragile heart !—the strong alone
In love and grief-of both the burning shrine!
Thou, my soul's friend! with grief hast surely done,
But with the love which made thy spirit mine,
Say, couldst thou part?

I hear the rustling banners; and I hear

The wind's low singing through the fretted stone;

I hear not thee; and yet I feel thee near

What is this bound that keeps thee from thine own? Breathe it away!

I wait thee—I adjure thee! hast thou known
How I have loved thee? couldst thou dream it all?

Am I not here, with night and death alone,
And fearing not? and hath my spirit's call
O'er thine no sway?

Thou canst not come! or thus I should not weep!
Thy love is deathless—but no longer free!
Soon would its wing triumphantly o'ersweep
The viewless barrier, if such power might be,
Soon, soon, and fast!

But I shall come to thee! our souls' deep dreams, Our young affections, have not gush'd in vain ; Soon in one tide shall blend the sever'd streams, The worn heart break its bonds-and death and

pain

Be with the past!

THE SISTERS OF SCIO.

As are our hearts, our way is one,

And cannot be divided. Strong affection
Contends with all things, and o'ercometh all things.
Will I not live with thee? will I not cheer thee?
Wouldst thou be lonely then? wouldst thou be sad?
JOANNA BAILLIE.

"SISTER, Sweet Sister! let me weep awhile! Bear with me-give the sudden passion way! Thoughts of our own lost home, our sunny isle,

Come, as a wind that o'er a reed hath sway; Till my heart dies with yearnings and sick fears ;— Oh! could my life melt from me in these tears!

"Our father's voice, our mother's gentle eye,

Our brother's bounding step-where are they,

where?

Desolate, desolate our chambers lie!

-How hast thou won thy spirit from despair? O'er mine swift shadows, gusts of terror, sweep ;— I sink away-bear with me-let me weep!"

"Yes! weep, my Sister! weep, till from thy heart The weight flow forth in tears; yet sink thou not! I bind my sorrow to a lofty part,

For thee, my gentle one! our orphan lot To meet in quenchless trust; my soul is strongThou, too, wilt rise in holy might ere long.

"A breath of our free heavens and noble sires,
A memory of our old victorious dead,―
These mantle me with power! and though their fires
In a frail censer briefly may be shed,

Yet shall they light us onward, side by side;

Have the wild birds, and have not we, a guide?

"Cheer, then, beloved! on whose meek brow is set

Our mother's image-in whose voice a tone, A faint sweet sound of hers is lingering yet, An echo of our childhood's music gone ;Cheer thee thy Sister's heart and faith are high ; Our path is one-with thee I live and die!"